


The Way We Were

by 9VaniaStein9



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alone, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Natasha Romanov, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Dehydration, Dysphoria, Fluff, Forgotten Ones, Gen, Gore, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Homeless Peter Parker, Homelessness, Hurt Peter Parker, Injury, Kidnapped, Kidnapped Child, Kidnapping, Memory Loss, Mexico, Minor Violence, Name, Names, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov acts like a Mom, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Natasha Romanov, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Hatred, Starvation, Superheroes, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture, Vigilante, calling yourself a name that isn't yours, dysphoria?, homeless, i love natasha romanov, identity dysphoria, kidnapped minor, superhero, vigilantes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2019-10-21 23:24:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 16,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9VaniaStein9/pseuds/9VaniaStein9
Summary: They came for him when he was going to school. Of course they would; Peter has been late or absent from school many times, so it shouldn't be that much of a shock to people that he doesn’t show up again.They came for him when he was walking a block to get to the subway, using the choice spot to not be seen by cameras.They came for him, and they had him.On the third day, he snapped.Something happened during that final healing process, slower than normal due to the lack of food and water. His brain healed again, for the fourth time, and it would've been like the others, but then he couldn't remember.Peter couldn't remember.When the Avengers do find him, homeless and hardened by his new life, the journey back to the way it was, to the way they were, is a long one.





	1. They Came For Him

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, the title is a song that Barbra Streisand sang, maybe wrote. Idk.  
> Do I have too many fics to handle responsibly? Yes.  
> Am I posting another? Yes.
> 
> St*rkers, do not interact!

They came for him when he was going to school. Of course they would; Peter has been late or absent from school many times, so it shouldn't be that much of a shock to people that he doesn’t show up again.

They came for him when he was walking a block to get to the subway, using the choice spot to not be seen by cameras.

They knew what they were doing.

They came for him, and they had him.

They poked him with nails, shoved knives into his body, and bashed his head in for three days.

On the third day, he snapped.

Something happened during that final healing process, slower than normal due to the lack of food and water. His brain healed again, for the fourth time, and it would've been like the others, but then he couldn't remember.

Peter couldn't remember.

The pain he was in caused him to break away.

 _What is that?_ He thought as his hands stuck to the man's shirt as he held him four feet in the air.

No matter how hard he scrubbed for the next four days, it wouldn't come off his hands and feet. His skin came off when he really tried but each layer of skin—the old that he couldn’t bring himself to get past, and the new that grows back before he can even try—has that layer of stickiness.

The first man he left in a metal box that had holes in it. They had transported him in that, like a rabid dog that is too dangerous to touch, but he was unconscious for most of it, and he doesn’t remember, anyway.

He only knows because he can smell the scent that surrounds his blood all over it.

The first woman was left hanging in a net of webbing that he made using some devices that shot webs.

Peter took the devices, too afraid to leave them with the kidnappers, but he didn't keep them; he was too afraid of trackers to keep them, so, he kept them for the time being, at least until he could destroy them.

The second man was tied with a collar that was used to electrocute him. Peter broke it so that it would no longer shock anyone, and he tied the man’s hands with zipties.

The second woman was in the stand that had kept Peter immobile, tied to it for days, beaten and stabbed, but he left her there, not a single mark on her.

Peter left his kidnappers there, and then he ran.


	2. I Think I Found Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give all of the honor and credit to God for all of my fics because I wouldn't be able to do anything without Him, including writing.

Tony found them first.

 

Tony thought that he'd find him—the boy who he only admits to himself as his son—but he found them—the people tied, strapped, or contained—instead.

 

Three people; two men, one woman. One spot looked like webbing melted away, as if someone was being kept there, but the other three wouldn’t say.

 

Tony could only hope that that was where Peter was when he broke free; at least then it would be safer.

 

But the blood that coated the weapons and the torture devices told him a different story.

 

Tony had the villains taken in and locked up, even though his mind was screaming at him to do anything it takes to make them tell him where Peter is.

 

But he managed to keep from killing them, and the Avengers set out to find the boy who left them there.

 

That was months ago.

 

Tony still has nightmares. He's had them about so many things, but these are the worst so far. He saw what covered the scalpels, and he saw the blood that coated the stand.

 

Tony tested the blood, knocking everything off the lab table when the tests confirmed that it was Peter's.

 

"Tony, I think I found him."

 

It's been three months. Tony can hardly breathe sometimes, and every time he's had that hope, it's been crushed, but the hope still flourishes when it is said.

 

"Where?"

 

"Mexico."

 

  
  


A boy crawls into the nearest large building, feeling his warning sense go off.

 

The sounds outside are still loud, and he still needs to run, but he feels safer in here, even though he can’t stay, and it’s only for a moment.

 

He knows that he’s not safe yet, the chase still on, even though only evidence of it is the sense that he is being chased, his arm hairs raised, a sharp pain in the back of his head, screaming that is his mind telling him that he needs to run because there is danger on his heels.

 

The warning is louder, giving him chills as he runs.

 

The boy crashes into an alley, rolling, and then he's on his feet before his roll breaks. The boy is twice as fast as he should be, and he's running through alleys and buildings like he's being chased.

 

He is.

 

A man in a metal suit crashes onto the ground, straightening up.

 

Peter reaches for his web bomb.

 

"What, you don't wanna see me?" The man jokes as his faceplate lifts, but there is no real humor.

 

The boy throws the web bomb just as the suit opens, and the man is stuck in his own suit, and the culprit was running before it even hit.

 

"Peter!" A man yells, but the boy does not turn around.

 

A man with a bow and arrow walks out of a doorway, grinning.

 

"Hey, buddy!”

 

The boy throws a punch at a nearby door, sending splinters raining down on the man.

 

A man wearing red, white, and blue lands from two stories up, giving him a look of disapproval and concern.

 

"Look, son, you don't have to run."

 

The boy kicks off a building, and then lands on the other side of the red, white, and blue clad man, and then climbs up a wall, finding a man and a woman waiting for him on the roof.

 

"Remind me to laugh at Clint later," the man says, and then Peter throws a punch.

 

Not expecting it from Peter of all people, Bucky almost misses it.

 

While his metal arm is busy catching it, the woman uses a Widow's Bite to knock out the boy, sending him to the ground in seconds.

  
  


The boy can't breathe. The shock runs through him like ice, and he can't breathe.

 

"What did you do?!?" Tony practically screams at Natasha when he sees the spazzing boy.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

 

“She used her Widow’s Bite,” Bucky responds.

 

“Peter wouldn't listen to you, or me, or anyone else here. The obvious answer would be to use one."

 

“The obvious answer?!? The obvious answer would be to ask him what’s wrong, because he sure wouldn’t run away from us unless something was wrong!”

 

And then the boy can feel himself being picked up, and he fights, punching and kicking until he falls out of the person's arms, and then he's falling, and he's caught again by a person with wings strapped to his back, and the punch he throws is enough to send them sprawling.

 

 

By that time, it's not a long fall, but he hits his head, and the darkness hits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, commenting, bookmarking, and kudos-ing!  
> Whoa! I am posting this chapter today because in the past roughly twenty-four hours I have been given so much support and you guys deserve it!  
> Thanks again! Have a blessed day!


	3. My Name Is Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Light slashing (sorta like stabbing) with a sharp object here! Honestly, probably don't want to read this fic if you have issues with blood. How would you get past the first chapter? Bleh.  
> Anyway, our boy is traumatized and scared. Beware.  
> Also, when he's comfortable enough and/or scared, he speaks Spanish because hey, three months in Mexico and having known Spanish before can really have an impact. I don't know if that's even accurate, but I'm not taking it out right now.  
> Also, I used Google Translate. Don't judge me.

The boy wakes up, and he's instantly freezing, his head pounding with pain. It hurts enough that he doesn't move for a moment or two, but then he looks around to see that he's somewhere new and clean.

The lights are dim, and it shouldn’t come as a shock to him that there are no windows.

He forces himself to move, not stay in the really comfortable bed—no, cot—that practically calls his name—the name he remembers, anyway—and he tiptoes across the floor to listen at the door, expecting some noise, but it’s eerily silent except for a slight hum.

A quick glance around the room gives him the relief that there are no visible cameras, at least.

He's in a room that has dark metal walls, but they're lukewarm to the touch, not cold like he was expecting.

The metal vibrates so softly that it's almost like it isn't, and the purr of an engine along with the slight shifting as the vehicle moves with no hint of ground underneath lets him know that he is on a plane or a jet of some sort.

The only way out of the room is a door that sends wariness through him like a blade that's cutting too fast, sharp and painful.

He ignores the door for a moment to assess what he has at his disposal.

His backpack is gone, his mask inside, along with all of his other possessions besides the clothing he wears.

His stomach clenches, starving for the bits of food he has stowed away.

Well, had. Who knows where they are now.

_¿Cuándo fue la última vez que realmente comiste?_

_When_ _was the last time you_ _really ate?_

He tells himself that he doesn't know and doesn't want to think about it because what's the use in struggling to remember when nothing happens?

A large machine is nearby, connected to the wall—like his cot, he finds upon closer inspection—but it's turned off and he decides that his curiosity should not be entertained for fear of attention.

A large case hides underneath his bed, and when he opens it he's surprised to find medical supplies.

A large trash bin in the corner—one that seals quite well—but it's filled with bloody bandages and tape.

A small sink— _oh, that's tempting._

_¿Cuándo fue la última vez que te bañaste?_

_When was the last time you bathed?_

Again, he reminds himself that he doesn't remember and he doesn't want to think about it.

An idea comes to mind, and he digs in the medical kit and produces a container that holds a bunch of medicine.

_Whoa._

He sticks it in his hoodie pocket, practically vibrating now because he's scared that someone will walk in.

_¿Dónde?_

_Where?_

Finally, he finds some scissors, and they're conveniently with a little case to prevent someone from accidentally getting stabbed.

He debates, but then takes it off.

If he needs to use it, he's going to need to do it quick.

He shoves the case back under the bed and stands as he holds the scissors at the ready, prepared to stab.

When he tries the door, it's surprisingly easy to open.

Only a crack lets in the sounds of people talking.

"He's fine, Tony. We're almost there, and then we can get Cho to check him out."

"You electrocuted my mentee!"

_Mentee?_

He remembers being electrocuted, but this man isn't his mentor that he knows about, and who would chase their mentee?

"It was either that or have Wanda deal with him, and she was five minutes out. Have fun chasing the kid who can climb walls around Mexico. It already took us two weeks to find him."

"We could've talked to him!"

"That kid wasn't going to listen," another man says. "Looked like some of the guys in the camps; saw too much, couldn't run fast enough. He wasn't going to stop long enough for you to get a word in."

"Peter isn't a soldier in a camp, Barnes. He's a kid who has been running, probably from the sickos we threw in jail, and he doesn't know who to trust yet."

"Exactly," another man says.

_How many are there?_

The boy quickly counts who he saw and heard about.

Iron Man.

Captain Patriotic himself.

War Machine/Iron Patriot.

Wanda. Maximoff, then.

That arrow guy. Eagle eye? No, Hawkeye.

Black Widow.

The guy with the wings. Falcon.

The Winter Soldier.

Probably the Hulk, Vision, and Thor.

Too many for comfort.

_How can I take out all of them?_

The door opens without warning, and he jumps back, holding out his scissors like a knife.

"Whoa, Kid!"

"Where'd he get the scissors?"

"The med kit."

"Whoa, Kid, calm down. You're okay, you're safe!"

No one makes a move but Iron Man, who's got his hands up and is too close for the kid's comfort.

"What do you want?" The boy asks, ready to attack.

"Kiddo, put the scissors down and let's talk."

"What do you want?!?"

If they wanted to experiment on him they would've started already, and he wasn't stuck in that room, and he wasn't strapped down, _so, what do they want?!?_

"Kid, stop and think."

"Stop calling me Kid!"

" _Peter._ "

He falters, his eyebrow furrowing as he tightens his grip on the scissors.

"What?"

"Pete, you wouldn't stab any of us."

"What- Why are you calling me that?"

"Because it's your name," Iron Man says, a look on his face that says that he feels sick and horrified.

"M-My name is Ben."

_Ben._

It's the only name he can remember, and it's all he can remember about before.

"How do you know that?"

"I-I don't, I just-"

"Kid, hey, put the scissors down before you cut your fingers off."

Ben is shaking, barely able to hold onto the scissors but his super grip keeps them from falling to the ground.

"No! Why did you- Stop! You don't know me!"

_How_ _can I_ _? I can't be friends with him!_

"Of course I know you, Pete. Do you remember anything about us?"

"What I know from the news and internet."

"What do you remember?"

"Nothing. I- Ben. I remember Ben."

"Ben? Your uncle?"

"No, Ben. I remember my name is Ben and I'm- I thought I was Ben."

"Can I have the scissors, buddy?"

" _No!_ " Peter—Ben?—yells, more of a frightened yell than mad. "What do you want? Why did you send _them_?"

"What? Send who?"

"Back off! Where's my backpack?"

A redhead—Widow—holds it out for him, and he snags it in a quick motion, scissors still in hand.

"Where am I?"

"In the Avengers Jet."

"Where?"

"We're about twenty minutes from the compound."

"The compound?"

"In New York."

_New York?_

"Friday, show us where we are."

A screen appears, making the boy jump, but he stares at the side that shows the ground beneath them.

"This is a trick," he says, but he doesn't really believe it.

"It isn't a trick. Can you put the scissors down so we can talk?"

Ben does, but only because this tactic is getting him nowhere.

If he can pretend to believe them long enough, he can escape once they hit the ground.

His pretending to be calming down lasted until Stark took a step, and he stumbles back and holds the scissors back out, eyes wide and terrified, and that's when Stark tries to swipe them away, but Peter is too fast for him and lashes out, catching the man in the side—not stabbing, just slashing—stumbling back with a flinch as the Avengers close in to take away the sharp object.

He's terrified as he flips and tries to escape, but he has no weapon and not much energy left with his pounding headache and nausea from not eating for too long.

The skirmish ends with the scissors being taken away right before someone manages to inject him with something that sends his vision going black with a plead on his lips.

" _Please,_ " he cries, ending with a shiver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support!  
> Ideas?  
> Have a blessed day, sweeties!


	4. What I Was

Ben wakes up in a room that is sterile, white, and glass.

His breath hitches in his throat, and his mouth is dry, fear clawing up his throat as he sits up in his bed, wildly looking around.

The room he's in has glass walls, round and in another larger room that has monitors and large electronic desks, the Black Widow sitting in a spinny chair.

Oddly enough, she's in gray sweats and a pink sweater, but it doesn't make her look less scary.

"Sorry," she says. "We don't have a lot of you-proof places to put you."

"Where am I?"

"The compound. You're in the Hulk-proof room."

"The Hulk?"

"Yeah. Turns out that you can bust through walls, according to Tony, so, this is safer than in the med bay. Dr. Cho did check that you're okay."

"Why am I here?"

"Because you used to spend weekends here, and you're one of us."

"One of you?" Ben's lip curls up at the thought, his eyes showing heat at the idea. "I would _never_ be one of you. You work with Stark."

"Tony Stark, though he _acts_ arrogant, is a good man."

Ben actually laughs, and it's bitter and cold, and it startles Natasha enough that she almost lets it show on her face.

"Tell that to whoever I was before!"

"Before?"

"Before I woke up and couldn't remember what I was!"

" _What_ you were?"

"No human can do this!"

"Do what? Climb walls?"

"Ask Stark and his goons! They know!"

"Those people who hurt you don't work for Tony."

"Then explain the logos and the equipment that all said Stark Industries!"

"They stole it when they were fired for abuse and illegal activity when Tony first became Iron Man."

"Then how come they hadn't been found since then? If Tony Stark is so brilliant, why can't he find four former employees that stole millions of dollars worth of equipment?"

"Because bodies were found that matched their descriptions and the equipment was shown to be destroyed. It was fake."

"And I'm supposed to believe this why?"

"Because I have a video of one of them confessing hours after we found them, but not you."

The Black Widow presses a button on a desk and a hologram appears inside the glass room, showing one of the women at a table, wearing a prison jumpsuit that was a blue-gray, a Shield logo above the prisoner number.

She looked tattered and worn, tired and beat up, as if someone had beaten her up hours before.

A furious Tony and a composed Black Widow were on the other side of the table the woman was sitting at, pictures of Ben but younger and clean and happy, the barn Ben woke up in, and three mugshots—one of the woman—in between them.

"After you faked your deaths and hid at Oscorp, you took Richard Parker's research and applied it to your own, genetically manufactured spiders, and tried to mix them with human DNA."

"We tried to, but it never took. The spiders bred and then someone got bitten by one, but before we could catch him, he found out what he could do."

"Peter."

"I wanted to run, but Jimmy said that he'd kill me before I did, and that we had to get the kid. James said that we had to wait. The kid was a nobody, but everytime we tried, he'd defeat who we sent. We eventually got Dr. Connors to take another version we made with lizards, but that failed as well. I had the idea to kidnap the kid, figure out what happened with him that worked, but then _Spider-Man_  went to Germany and then he was under _your_ radar."

She said the name Spider-Man like it was a fungus, but her tone changed when she said the last part of the sentence, filled with hate instead, but it was directed at Tony.

"We had to wait, but we finally had the chance when you had the suit and our plans were in order."

"Why not grab him around Homecoming?" Stark asks. "Why didn't you go when he didn't have the suit then?"

"We weren't ready. He changed his habits. He didn't go out to patrol as much, he spent time with his friends, and he was too erratic in his habits to pin him down in a place."

"Why did you pretend to work for me?"

Stark is still angry, leaning over the table.

Ben isn't sure if he realizes it.

"Call it a bonus," she practically spits at him, a sneer on her face.

Ben jumps when Stark has to be pulled back from the woman before he can hurt her further.

"You're here only because I want to know all that you know about where my _kid_ is and because you're the only one of you three who is stupid enough to tell me! When I find my kid, I _swear_ -"

Natasha stops the clip, looking calm and collected, unlike Ben, who is shaking.

She notices.

"Sit down, Peter."

"D-Don't call me that," he almost gasps, but he sits down anyway, limbs shaking.

She said it herself.

They kidnapped him—Peter? They kidnapped Ben but he was Peter and now-

Ben feels like he's going to throw up.

He can barely breathe, his thoughts going too fast.

"Ben, _breathe,_ " he kinda hears someone say, but now he doesn't know who it is because he can barely hear or see anything.

The next thing he knows, someone is sitting on the bed with him, hugging him close, his face buried in a soft sweater that smells like soap.

"Take deep breaths, okay? Count with me. In for four, out for three. One, two, three, four. One, two, three."

A shuddered gasp escapes him at the contact, but he doesn't move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the idea I was given in the last chapter's comment section!!! Any more?  
> Comments? Suggestions? Things you noticed you want to talk about?  
> Have a blessed day!


	5. Tony Has Feelings

Tony stares at the monitor that shows the kid watching the video, not even bothering to look at the video because he'll just get angry at the woman and the others who hurt his kid.

The video stops, and Natasha goes closer to the glass, telling the kid to sit down, and he's shaking so much that he almost falls onto the thin mattress.

"D-Don't call me that," he practically gasps, and he's grabbing at his hair now, his breaths growing faster as his eyes flood with the tears of a scared child, and it takes all of Tony's willpower not to run and help him through this, but Natasha beats him to it, opening the room and sitting down beside him.

Tony doesn't even blink when Steve—who is also watching the monitor—puts a hand on his shoulder.

"He thought-"Tony starts to say, but his voice cracks. "He thought I sent them to _torture_ him."

"He knows the truth now," Steve offers. "He's going to be okay."

"I know he is," Tony says, and it's a cracked statement, but it's firm enough. "They're not going to touch my kid again."

After a heavy breath is let out, Stark walks away without another word.

 

 

Four hours later, Natasha wants to speak with him.

He's elbow-deep in oil and robot parts, but she's already in the lab and if it's about Peter, he wants to know.

"How's the kid?"

He's had the monitor pulled up, but he wants her to tell him if he missed anything.

"We talked, and he told me that he had a head injury. He wouldn't tell me what happened, but something tells me it was the people who took him."

"He woke up and knew it was a head injury because all of the blood caked into his scalp," Tony states, trying not to sound angry and heartbroken because of the pain his kid went through, but he fails miserably, his words clipped and angry.

"He's scared, Tony. He needs out of Hulk's room. Hulk doesn't even need it anymore, and we only keep it for if we need to contain a threat."

"What if he runs? I can't let that happen."

"Put him on my floor. It's the same layout, and you can move his things up. I don't think he will, but if he does, I'll be ready."

"He'd be safe on-"

"He thought you sent people to _torture_ him and find out what he can do. Ben doesn't trust you, but he does me."

Tony doesn't miss the fact that she says _Ben_.

He thinks hard, twirling a wrench.

"Okay," he agrees. "I'll move his stuff up and then he can go. Which room?"

"The one next to mine. Thank you, Tony."

"Yeah."

"He'll be okay."

"I know," he says, but his eyes betray the fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short!  
> Have a blessed day!


	6. My Own Room?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!

When Natasha leaves, a man known as Captain America comes in, and yes, Ben clams up.

He wipes his teary face and sits there, fiddling with his fingers while he waits.

Natasha left the glass door open, but he doesn't leave, and Cap doesn't come in.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"When Nat comes back we'll get you something to eat."

Ben straightens a little at that, but keeps his eyes seemingly on his hands.

"Okay."

"Any special requests?"

Steve is trying, but this isn't how Peter usually acts, and he isn't sure what to do.

_Act like you're talking to Bucky,_ his mind supplies. _Try not to trigger him and keep it going._

Ben shakes his head.

"We can order pizza, or Chinese food, or... Basically anything. Or we can make something. If you have a craving, we can get it."

Ben shrugs, his stomach growling and feeling pained.

Steve chatters on, asking questions and trying not to press at the same time until Natasha comes back.

"Thanks, Steve. If Ben wants, we're going to go hang out on Clint's floor while you guys get everything ready."

"Okay," Steve says, and then turns to Ben. "I'll see you later, son."

Ben nods, and then watches as Steve leaves, turning his eyes back to Natasha when he does.

She comes in and sits down on the bed next to him, sighing.

"Are you ready to come out now, or do you want to stay here for a while?"

She knows the answer, but she's giving him the choice.

"Where would we go?"

"Clint's floor. I thought that you could stay on my floor if you wanted. You'd get your own room and you wouldn't be bothered by anyone else."

"M-My own room? I thought- I didn't think you'd let me out."

"You're in here so you wouldn't run away before I could talk to you. We don't want you on the streets. If you're okay with it, you can get a room on my floor. Only Clint's allowed on my floor, and he's promised to stay away until you say so."

"That s-sounds n-nice."

He's looking at his hands.

Wait, no, his wrists.

He has no webshooters on.

"I brought you something," she says, producing a set from her pocket.

He slowly grabs them, but once he has them he puts them on quickly, relieved to have protection.

"Gracias," he says, and then realizes what he said. "I- Um, thank you."

"De nada," she says, and then stands. "I speak Espanol, too. Don't worry. Are you okay with hanging out at Clint's while they fix your room?"

He nods tentatively, afraid that he will be lead to a room with metal tools that will hurt him.

They leave the glass room, exiting the larger room and heading down a hallway.

"What are they doing?"

"Clint and a crew are taking some stuff in so you can have a room, and the rest of the Avengers are either on their floors, in one of the labs working, or on the group floor."

"Okay."

He wants to ask if he can have something to eat, but he can't bring himself to.

Thankfully, she says something.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Ben shrugs, eyes down on the floor as she leads him to an elevator.

"How about some pizza?"

"Okay."

She presses a button in the elevator and they head to Clint's floor, Ben staring at his shoes the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a blessed day! Jesus loves you!!!


	7. Clint's Floor, Pizza, And A Movie

When the doors open, he looks out, seeing the living room that is cleaner than any dive he's been in for the past three months.

A large TV, couch, and coffee table, a kitchen to the right with a large island and an open door that leads to a large pantry that has food but isn't fully stocked. There's a microwave, fridge, and a toaster in the kitchen, and there are gaming systems and controllers _—_ Ben's fingers itch at the sight, as if he's touched them before _—_ in the living room in different places.

He follows her into the kitchen, and she pulls two cans of soda out of the pantry, popping hers open and taking a swig after she hands him one.

"Go ahead," she says, smiling to let him know it's okay. "You're pale, and you need sugar."

He obeys, and only when the bubbly drink hits his tongue does he realize how thirsty he is.

He forces himself to only sip, but it's hard, and he has to focus to stay in control.

When he looks up, blinking because he was a little _too_ focused and drifted into thinking about how the bubbles tickle his nose, Natasha has her phone out and is looking over an order.

"Two sausage and one pepperoni, two 2-liters, and breadsticks. Do you want cheese sauce?"

Ben shrugs.

"Okay. I got two. It should be here in about twenty minutes if Happy doesn't spend an hour putting the deliverer through security checks. I'll text him."

 

 

When the pizza does come, Ben hides in the kitchen while Nat pays, trying not to be seen.

"Ben, do you want to eat in here or the kitchen?" She calls from the living room.

He answers by coming to her, silently asking what she wants him to do.

"I'll grab plates," she says, and it doesn't take her long to come back with styrofoam plates and cups, handing one of each to Ben and telling him to dig in and eat as much as he wants.

He starts off with two slices of pizza, but he's still hungry afterwards and Natasha tells him that he can have more.

One slice later, she's telling him again.

He feels like he's starving, like he has been for months, but he makes himself stop after the fourth piece.

"Ben, is that all you want?"

He shakes his head yes.

Natasha knows that he's still hungry, but she also knows that his stomach must've shrank since he was kidnapped, so, she lets him be for a bit.

She'll have him eat again later.

She asks him if he wants to watch TV, and promptly turns it on after he shrugs, handing him the remote.

Ben flicks through the channels, trying to find something, but most of it looks foreign.

When he woke up without his memories, anything tied to his past disappeared, including pop culture.

He know how to do things, like work those webshooters through muscle memory, but everything else just seemed to disappear.

At least, everything like people and what he likes.

"I don't know," he finally admits, staring at the screen. "I don't remember any of these."

"That's okay," she says, comforting. "Why don't we try Lilo and Stitch? It's about to start. It was two pages back."

Ben does like Lilo and Stitch, and it does bring a little life into him when Stitch gets to stay with Lilo, but he can't bring himself to see it as realistic.

They call him family and they'd love a monster?

Ben can relate to the wall-crawling and feeling lost and alone.

It hurts.

_This movie isn't realistic for us,_ he thinks, but then catches himself and forces a smile for the monst- alien.

He doesn't voice his thoughts.

When the movie ends, Natasha voices that his room is done and the floor is clear for them to go to.

He nods and follows her, carrying the soda she hands him to her floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! Have a blessed day!


	8. It's All Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter has a lot of information, but it'll be fine.

Natasha's level has the same floorplan as Clint's, but hers has more of a neat feel but is still lived in.

There's a book on the coffee table by a remote, a shelf with books and fake plants--cacti and the like--and little trinkets like a Rubik's Cube and a stuffed pink rabbit.

There's the usual, but the pantry door is closed, and there's a fruit bowl on the island full of apples, grapes, and oranges.

"You can touch anything in here. Eat whatever you want, but do not touch the vodka in the fridge. I threw out the peppermint vodka because I know you're allergic and didn't want to chance it."

_I'm allergic to peppermint?_

"You can watch TV, read any of the books, and the bathroom is through that door, just like Clint's."

Ben nods, remembering Clint's.

It was small but really nice, and it felt like he was in Heaven when he was able to scrub his hands with soap.

He avoided looking at the mirror, though.

"If you don't want to be out here, that's okay. Your room is over here."

She leads him to his room through a hallway, letting him open his door.

The room is huge, a bed against a wall to his right, a desk to his left, and a dresser against the wall that is across from him.

She shows him his closet, and it's full of clothes, as is the dresser, but they look worn and loved, which turns them off for him because it means that he supposedly wore them before, but not remembering sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

He doesn't voice that, though.

The desk is full of pencils and pens and notebooks, and there's a big chest at the end of the bed that has other stuff in it like extra blankets and a few board games he can't remember playing.

There is a bookshelf with movies, books, and games, and even a microscope and some other science supplies like beakers and microscope slides, along with a notebook that has a drawing of a web on the front.

There is a large TV on the wall with a remote on the shelf, along with a case with game systems, games, and controllers.

There is a laptop, phone, and chargers on the end of the bed, and overall the room looks like someone has already been living there.

It makes him uncomfortable.

He wants to tear it all down and fix it, make it new, but he doesn't want to get in trouble for messing with something he doesn't even feel like is his.

But he puts on a grateful smile, albeit a small one.

Natasha shows him that he has his own bathroom, and at least _that_ looks brand new.

Everything looks new.

New soap, new shampoos and conditioners and a razor and towels.

This doesn't fill him with unease.

"Remember, you can use all of this. It's all yours."

"Gracias," he says, avoiding looking at the mirror.

He focuses on the floor.

"Do you want me to leave?"

He shrugs, but yes, he does.

"All right. If you need me, I will be in the room next to yours or in the main rooms, okay?"

A nod, and she leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Have a blessed day!  
> Any suggestions?


	9. A Bathroom, Bruises, And A Rubber Ducky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in a while! Thanks for waiting!

Ben explores the bathroom to avoid the other room, opening drawers.

_Why is there a plastic duck?_

An image of it floating in bath bubbles seems to appear, but he isn't sure if he is just imagining it.

He puts it in a drawer and leaves it.

He does force himself to leave the bathroom, but he grabs stuff and returns.

Ben grabs an empty notebook and a pencil, and he grabs an extra blanket and a nice sheet from the chest, plus a book.

After a minute, he goes back and grabs some clothes, grabbing the newest-looking outfit he can find, hoodie included, the phone (new), and the laptop (not new).

He puts everything on the counter, shutting the door and locking it.

The sheet goes over the mirror, covering it completely.

Everything else stays on the counter, and he grabs a towel.

The shower gets turned on and he practically cries when it hits his hand and it feels so familiar.

So normal.

He takes off his clothes and spends the next hour scrubbing, soaping, and rinsing until the water has gone from pink and black and brown to a clear that is so abnormal.

The water still warm, Ben turns it down until no more water drips, and he towels off.

He avoids looking at himself in any way until he is fully clothed, not wanting to see his ribs jabbing out or the way his skin is colored with bruises.

He's been like this for a while, but it makes him want to cry everytime he sees it.

When he's done, he takes his towel and dries the tub with it, and then puts it over the rail to dry.

The curtain open, he puts the blanket in the tub, and climbs in, phone in hand.

No lock, but there is internet access and he needs to know who he is.

But no one's told him his last name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everything!  
> Have a blessed day!


	10. Password

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10th chapter! Yeah! All glory to God for this!!! :D

The computer, unlike the phone, is used.

There are scratches on the top, ten stickers on it, and three sticky notes on the inside, stuck to the keyboard.

**Call May**

**Make sure you eat!!!**

** Take that sandwich out of your backpack!!!!! **

_Who's May?_

_Girlfriend? Friend? Mother? Sister? Cousin?_

The handwriting looks like his when he had first woken up.

Quick, in a hurry, and scribbled.

Now it's hurried, wobbly, and straining to be careful because when he does write, it's important.

He tries to boot up the computer, and he groans when it kicks on.

No updates, surprisingly.

Someone has probably been on this.

But there is a password.

_No quiero preguntar..._

I don't want to ask...

What, give him the computer and no password?

_Ugh._

_¿Qué es?_

What is it?

_Password?_

_Nope._

_Aha! Password hint._

Ben's breath catches in his throat when he reads it.

__Ben._ _

He slams the laptop closed and scoots it away from him in the tub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that the chapters have been short. Sorry.  
> Have a blessed day! :D


	11. Peter Parker

After ten minutes of staring at the computer and trying to remember and not hyperventilate, Ben looks up the name Ben and the Avengers—on his phone, because no—trying to find a connection, but comes up with nothing.

No one named Ben, Benjamin, Benny, or Benji.

Nothing.

The password hint has to be important, but who—or what—is it?

It's been two hours before he hears a knock.

"Ben?"

He starts to panic, but then remembers where he is and that it's Nat.

"Sí? I mean, yeah? Uh, y-yes?"

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"When you're done, you can come out and help me pick, all right?"

"Okay."

He gets out of the tub, leaving everything but the phone where it is, save the computer, which he moves even farther away from him with his foot.

The phone goes in his pants pocket, and he tugs on his dirty, ratty, old hoodie before he leaves.

When he finds Natasha, she's in the kitchen, looking in the freezer.

"Want to look around and decide?"

Ben shrugs.

"Want me to give you some choices instead?"

He nods.

"Okay. Why don't we save the leftover pizza for if you get hungry after bed? We can make hamburgers, pancakes, spaghetti, soup... Basically whatever you want."

Ben shrugs, looking down.

"What do you want, Ben? I can see that you want something."

He slowly looks up at her, fiddling with the webshooter on his left wrist.

"Spaghetti," he admits.

She smiles.

"I like spaghetti, too."

She has him pull out a pot and a saucepan while she goes to get the food, and soon the smells of pasta and sauce float around the kitchen.

 

 

When they're eating and Ben's on his second plate, Natasha starts to talk.

"So, Ben. We haven't talked much about what you don't remember. Do you want to talk about it?"

Ben shrugs, staring at his plate full of the pasta.

"Ben, I know you have questions. You can ask them."

_What's my last name? Do I have any family? Where did I live before? Why did it take so long for someone to find me? Why do I know you? Are my abilities the reason? Do I help or get in the way? How old am I? When's my birthday? Am I in school?_

Ben chooses one of the most important ones.

"My last name. I- I don't know my last name."

"Parker," she says after a moment. "Peter Parker."

Ben feels a shiver run up his spine.

"Parker," he whispers, looking at Natasha's plate of spaghetti.

"Thank you," he says, glancing up to look her in the eyes, but his return to the plate because he feels like she can see what he's thinking when she stares into his eyes.

"You're welcome. Any more questions for me?"

He doesn't want to annoy her.

So, he shakes his head.

"Okay. You can always ask me."

Ben nods, picking up his fork again, but his fingers itch to go and hide away, Googling his life.

When he's done and asks if he can go to his room, he practically runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Any suggestions?  
> Have a blessed day!


	12. Orphan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to put notes and a chapter title! XD Sorry!

When he goes back to the tub, locking the door behind him, he uses the phone to research.

A few articles about Peter Parker and his internship with Tony Stark show up, but they're few and almost hidden deep in the internet, as if someone hid them.

A newspaper article on a small Peter Parker winning first place at a science fair, a picture of himself when he was younger holding up a trophy with his skinny arms, his display of Arc Reactor information behind him.

Ben closes that page as fast as he can when he's done.

He finds information, and what he finds is enough.

Sixteen, born November 15th, 2002.

Orphan.

_¿Soy huérfano?_

_I'm an orphan?_

Yes, he's been alone for three months, but at least he thought he had someone to care about him.

It almost hurts.

Left to an uncle and aunt, but their names were hard to find.

The newspapers don't care about that.

There's a Facebook page, but the friends on there are many.

He does manage to get the number down to a few important ones, judging by their interactions and how they went to the same school—a Midtown School of Science and Technology.

A Ned Leeds, Michelle Bones—although a Flash Thompson calls her Jones on the posts—and a Betty Brant, along with a few others.

Liz Allen, a kid named Abraham, and others from a decathlon team that Ben studies for hours.

Nothing seems known.

It's like when he was in Mexico, but with no terror.

There are pictures of him with Leeds, and some with Jones, some of him with a man and sometimes a woman—maybe his uncle and aunt?—and some of Tony Stark, but those last ones aren't on Facebook.

Ben saves them all, screenshots and grabs articles and backs them up in multiple folders, but man he wants to print them off and stow them away somewhere.

He misses his backpack.

Well, mostly what was _in_ his backpack.

Food, water, and newspaper clippings on the Avengers.

He could use those right now, even though he knows them by heart.

Overall, he learns a lot, but most of it is about others, which leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a blessed day!  
> Thanks for the suggestions, kudos, and comments!


	13. I Want To Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update! Thanks for reading!  
> Fluff in the next chapter, I think!

His days blend together.

He misses when he could walk around and punch anyone who hurt others, and he misses running on rooftops and leaving crooks tied up on doorsteps.

He misses freedom, but he doesn't miss being cold and hungry.

He misses the cool breezes and the mission he had, but now he has...

Nothing.

Nothing but the shreds of his past he has.

His days are spent researching, finding less and less new information each day, even when he hacks into secure sites and snoops around government files.

He researches, eats with Natasha, and tries not to ask questions.

Until one night, when they had just finished eating dinner, she brings it up.

"Ben."

"Yes?"

"I need to talk to you about something. I know you don't want to bother me, but when you're ready, I want you to ask any questions you have."

"Fine. Why can't I find myself online? There isn't a lot of information."

"You were a sort of intern for Stark. To protect your identity, he didn't want your info to get online."

"Oh."

"I can get you the information, but I wanted to know something."

"What?"

"You haven't even asked about a family."

"I know I'm an orphan, but- I- Do I have one? What happened to the aunt and the uncle who raised me? I didn't want to ask because you never said that they wanted to see me, and-"

"Ben, I can't read your mind, and- Your aunt wants to see you, but we needed to make sure you could handle it first."

"I can."

"Do you want to see her?"

"Yes. I-I really want to know."

"Okay. When?"

"Tonight."

 

 

 

May's been staying at the Tower in case her nephew needed anything from her, so, it doesn't take long for her to go from the floor she's been staying on to the main one, where Ben is waiting.

He didn't want her on Nat's floor because it's a safe space.

Everyone else has been cleared out except for Ben and Natasha.

"Are you okay?" Nat asks Ben, as he fiddles with his fingers.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Remember that we can leave whenever you want to."

Ben stares at the elevator doors, practically holding his breath until they open and he sees the woman inside.

She's got her hands grasping her shirt tight, stretching the material, and she lets out a breath as if she's been holding it in for far too long.

Ben's standing silent, shaking hands clasped together, and his hood is up, as if he's trying to hide, but he's staring at her, shoulders tense.

_C'mon... Quiero_ recordar _._

_I want to_ remember _._

But as he stares at her face, no new images flash through his mind.

His shoulders loosen up and sag, and the hopeful look on his face falls.

"Peter," May whispers, and the look in his eyes goes panicked.

"B-Ben," he corrects.

"What? Oh. I-I forgot. You're not talking about..."

He can see it in her eyes that she wants to hold him and call him Peter and never let him go, but she _can't_.

She can see that she can't, and it hurts.

She holds back the tears when he, feeling the awkwardness and trying to fix it, pulls down his hood, revealing the clean but long and shaggy curls on his head.

Natasha starts talking, but he keeps his eyes on May, not trusting her enough to turn all of his attention to his one friend.

"Ben, you wanted to ask her some questions, right? Do you want to sit at the table or the couch?"

"Table."

That way he can sit across from her.

"Okay."

Ben lets May go first, not wanting to turn his back, and he keeps his distance.

May sits down, and Natasha chooses to sit next to him so she can offer some encouragement.

Once they're seated, and no one talks for a moment, Natasha starts.

"Ben, do you want to ask her anything right now?"

"Uh, yeah. How are we related?"

"No one told you?"

"Aunt and nephew, but wh-which s-side?"

"Oh. I married your dad's brother, B- Um... So, by marriage."

"My dad. When did he die?"

"When you were little. There was a plane crash."

"Was she there, too? My mom?"

"Yes," May says sadly. "It was hard on us, too, but you were a trooper."

"Why did I go live with you? Why not someone else?"

He's not being mean, that much is clear.

He's just curious.

"We were your only close relatives. Your mom didn't have any siblings, and Ben and your dad only had each other, and all of our parents have been gone or we've had issues with them for years."

"Ben?" He asks, startled.

"What?" She says, becoming startled herself.

"You said Ben. Who's Ben? M-My uncle?"

She's a little nervous now, playing with a bracelet she has on.

"Yes. Ben. You were named after him."

Ben turns to Natasha.

"I thought you said that my name was Peter!"

He's scared now. Scared that they've been lying, that he'll be taken back and beaten, and scared that this life that he's been trying to get into the mindset of is fake.

"Your middle name," May says quickly. "Peter after your grandpa on their side, and Benjamin after Ben. If you were a girl, you were going to be named Penny—although I wanted to call you Petra—and your middle name was going to be May."

"That's... sweet," he admits, not used to saying that word in this context, but he heard a little old lady use it during the past three months and he's been wanting to use it.

It's something that he didn't have before.

"When you were named after Ben, I was relieved," May says, turning the conversation, but Ben thinks it's not deliberate. "Any child named after me is going to be a wild one, and I was hoping that that name would rub off and give you more sense than I had when I was younger. Ben was always the sensible one."

"How did he die?"

"He tried to stop a thief, and- they shot him."

Ben exhales, expecting that because of the newspaper he found, but hearing it makes it so much more real.

Maybe he shouldn't go by the name Ben. It sounds like it hurts May, and he doesn't want these people he doesn't know to feel hurt, but May did want him to be named after this man.

But she wants to call him Peter.

He can see that.

But the name makes him squirm.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"You didn't kill him," she answers, and reaches across the table to hold his hand, but he snatches it back before she can do more than graze his hand, thinking that she's trying to take his webshooters, and-

_No._

He's shaking now, eyes wide, terrified of losing them again, and-

He can feel the metal holding his wrists, the burn of having been struggling before, but he doesn't remember that.

He remembers the blood and not having what he needs and fighting those people, and they had those weapons, and-

_No!_

"Peter, I'm sorry, I forgot-" A voice that he doesn't recognize pleads. "-Sweetie, you're okay, I promise."

"Ben, listen to me," another voice says, and it's familiar. "It's okay. Can you open your eyes?"

Ben squeezes his eyes shut more, not wanting to see.

"No, I can't. I don't want to be there again, I can't see it. I can't see the blood and- No!"

"Ben, you're in Avengers Tower. It's just me and you and May, and she's going to leave."

The other person starts to protest, saying that she doesn't want to leave her baby, but she relents, seemingly knowing that she needs to leave _now_.

When the sound of elevator doors come and go, and he hears Natasha order a Friday to dim the lights, Ben still doesn't open his eyes.

"Ben, you don't have to open your eyes, but I want you to listen. You're safe. The people who took you are in prison, and you're with me. Do you know my voice? Think. Who is it? Can you remember?"

He makes a noise that sounds strained, because the faces he remembers are his—dirty and bloody and bruised—and the people who took him, and who he thought hired them to do it.

No, Stark's not here, and he didn't do it; Natasha showed him.

Natasha.

"Natasha."

"Good. Good job. What color is my hair?"

"Red."

"What color is my shirt?"

Um...

"Pink."

"Eyes?"

He avoids looking at her eyes. Everytime he does, he feels like they see through him and his struggles.

"I-I don't know."

"It's okay, you can look if you want."

He shakes his head, but he doesn't need to.

He's calmer now, and he's breathing fairly normally, albeit a little fast and shaky.

But it's better.

He clings to Natasha's sweater, regretting having a meltdown to May touching him.

He doesn't remember her, but he feels that she doesn't deserve that.

_You need to fix it_ , he tells himself, clinging tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, they'll rebuild their relationship.  
> Thanks for reading! Any comments on what you want/are excited for? I'm sorry I've been giving so much angst and not enough fluff! Fluff to come!  
> This is a healing fic, and there are ups and downs.  
> :)  
> Have a blessed day!


	14. Stop, Drop, And Roll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a fire in this one! Sort of. Not really, but some stuff burns and causes smoke.  
> Tiny bit of fluff! I'm sorry I didn't have more in this chapter, but I've written some of the next chapter, and my fave has some fluff that isn't filled with angst! Cute!

A few days later—a few days because he couldn't bring himself to leave before—he steps into the elevator, intent on finding May.

A voice speaks, his brain seeming to glitch as he jumps and lands on the ceiling, shaking.

"Sorry, Young Boss."

"Who are you? Where are you?"

"My name is Friday, Boss' AI. I manage the tower and the compound's security, business, and anything else Boss needs, including assistance with the Iron Armor."

"An AI?"

Her accent is Irish, and she sounds so real, it's hard to believe.

"Yes."

"So, you handle everything Stark doesn't want to?" He asks bitterly.

"No, I'd be in more meetings," she says, and she's almost laughing, and it's such a stark contrast to Ben's mood that it almost shocks him.

Ugh, _stark_ contrast. Bad pun.

But it makes him smile, so, he'll let it slide.

"I make sure that he knows his schedule and I give suggestions on how best to defeat threats," the AI continues on.

"Oh."

"Would you like to use the elevator?"

"Um. Yeah."

"Where to?"

"May. I... don't know what floor."

"That's okay, I do. She is three floors down."

"You know where we are at all times?" Ben asks, fear crawling up his spine.

_She knows where I hide. She knows that I research the Avengers to find a lie in all of this because I'm scared, and that I have panic attacks at night, and how I have a pillow for the sole purpose of not breaking in a wall because I want to_ leave _._

"I am restricted from bathrooms and certain floors, such as Ms. Romanoff's and Mr. Barton's, with the exception of the elevator."

"Oh."

_It's fine, it's fine, it's fine._

"So, uh, what makes you restricted?"

"Boss decides that and puts it in the system."

"The system?"

_Is it accessible? Can I just... leave?_

"Boss and The Queen are the only ones who have clearance to it."

"The Queen?"

"I am programmed to call Ms. Potts The Queen, except when I am explaining. The Queen and Boss have been arguing about it for six months now."

"Okay..."

"Here we are," Friday says, and the doors open. "May is cooking, but she is-"

She is cut off by May opening an oven door across the room, sending smoke billowing out and upwards.

"Initiating protocols Stop, Drop, and Roll and Baby Escape," Friday says, and alarms go off, sending Ben to his knees as the high-pitched noises make it feel like his skull is being crushed.

May, not seeming to realize that anyone else in the room, is just trying to open a window and fan the oven with a handtowel at the same time.

Ben looks up at her, wanting to yell at Friday to turn it off, but he sees the smoke and it sends him into a panic, but then he's somewhere else, a tiny apartment with smoke everywhere and someone laughing in a way that is joyful.

"I burned the meatloaf!" She cries out, almost hysterical.

He watches as someone fans out the smoke, telling a Peter to open up the window as she flaps a dishtowel to shoo out the wispy gray.

Her face comes into view enough as she coughs and heads towards where a past Ben—Peter, she had said, but now he's opening up the window, and- Oh, wait, _he's_ Peter.

She's still laughing, but his mind seems to screech to a halt as he recognizes her.

May.

That startling realization throws him out of the scene and back into the real world, where he stumbles back and gasps, breathing in the charred air.

"Baby Escape initiated. Calling Boss," Friday says, the beeping still going off. "Young Boss, please leave using the nearest exit. Boss will be there shortly to assist you both."

"No!" A hysterical Ben screams. "Shut down the protocols! Tell him what happened, but I- I can't s-see him!"

Friday doesn't say anything, and Ben thinks that he's going to have to yell at her again, but Friday speaks before he can.

"Boss has agreed not to come. New protocol May Day engaged."

What seems out of nowhere, windows open and fans appear, blowing all of the smoke out in less than a minute.

May, hearing him yell at Friday, comes to investigate, not caring much about her new burned creation.

Once she sees Ben, her eyes go wide, and she pauses barely a millisecond before she seems to snap out of it and try to help him, but she pulls back before she touches him.

She coughs out an "are you okay" and gets a teary-eyed nod.

Ben and May, still coughing, wheeze.

Ben, recovering quicker, speaks first.

"Why do you burn food so much?"

May stops coughing, but she looks up and stares at him.

"You remember?"

"The smoke... You told me to open a window, and you were laughing. We were in an apartment. I-I think, I don't kn-"

"I'd do that all the time. I'd always burn your birthday cakes and lasagna and anything else I'd put in."

"I-I know. I don't know how, but- I saw it."

She looks like she's going to cry, and Ben feels tears in his eyes because he _remembered_ something.

"What were you making?" He says, breaking it because he can't cry in front of her again.

_You came to fix this, not make it worse._

"Uh, baked potatoes and chicken. I just... forgot to time it again."

"Oh."

Ben's stomach growls, and he blushes as he ducks his head.

_You should've eaten before you came, you idiota!_

_I was too nauseous!_

"Do you want to see if anything survived my cooking?"

He hesitates, but nods after he weighs the pros and cons, one hand fiddling with a webshooter.

May smiles.

"Friday, please tell everyone we're fine and what else happened. No, they don't need to come and make sure we're okay."

"Understood, May."

Ben raises an eyebrow.

"She calls you May but I get to be Young Boss?"

"You can have her call you whatever you want."

Ben looks up.

"Friday?"

"Yes."

"I want to be called Ben."

"Of course. From now on, I will refer to you as Ben."

_If only it were that easy with everyone_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Once again, I give credit to God for all of this!  
> Have a blessed day/night!


	15. Love Can Reach Past

Ben and May poked at the potatoes, which were fine, and tried to scrape off the black from the chicken, but that was pretty bad.

But they managed to salvage some of it on account that Ben didn't want to waste food—neither did May—especially after he had spent three months eating far worse than this so he wouldn't go hungry.

He still did, but it was less so.

The conversation was calm, where Ben didn't want to ask questions or answer them, and May was surprisingly fine with that.

When Ben was satisfied, wanting to stretch but not feeling comfortable enough to do so, he picked up his plate—following May's lead—and washed his dishes in a sink, leaving them to dry in a rack.

May sighs, content, and then turns to him.

"Want to watch a movie?"

"S-Sure," he says, beginning to rock on the balls of his feet.

 

 

They decide on one Ben doesn't know and May hasn't seen, since it's new, and they settle on the couch of a floor that Friday said they could use and not be disturbed.

Ben's on one side, and May's on the other, but even when she leaves, promising to come back, he's a little uneasy.

_Will she be back? What if someone comes? What if she does come back? What's she getting?_

But then she returns with popcorn and a plastic bag of other snacks, along with two fluffy blankets.

She sits down on the couch, scooting one towards him before she settles into hers.

Ben warily accepts it, but his Spider Sense is silent.

_Good._

The movie starts, and Ben feels almost sucked into it as he stares at the screen.

"Wh-What's this movie called?"

"A Wrinkle in Time."

Clouds. The sun.

A daughter and dad talking about magic and doing science and talking about the universe.

A mother talking about their love always being there for the little girl even when she can't feel it.

Storms.

Ben can almost feel the rain on his skin and the electricity that dances in the air, but this girl is safe and warm.

Yes, she's sad, but people love her.

He knows that because of her dad and her brother and her mom and her friend Calvin and the dog.

As the movie goes on, as Ben eats snacks and drinks some soda, he sees how the love can reach so far, and as he glances over at May, he realizes.

He doesn't have to be close.

He can sit here, and just not do anything for a while, and that's enough.

_This_ is enough.

The love May has for Pet- for _him_ can reach past the uncertainty and the fear and the trauma.

And maybe the love growing for Natasha—with her understanding that he's afraid when people are near—and May for her laughter that he now remembers and how now he knows that she's safe to be around.

Maybe that love can reach, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff! We have fluff!  
> I think it's fluff.  
> If you have any ideas/suggestions for fluffy fluff, PLEASE tell me!!! I had to scrap some of this because it was angsty before I wrote the fluff.  
> Blegh.  
> Have a blessed day!


	16. Content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

Ben didn't fall asleep feeling content and peaceful while on the couch.

In fact, he couldn't.

He wanted to sleep, but being in an open room with someone he doesn't actually know—remember, anyway—kept him up.

But May did.

After the movie, he was too afraid to wake her up, but he wasn't going to sleep here.

So, he notified Friday that he was going to go to bed.

He laid his blanket—May was hugging hers—over her, and then crept to the elevator, not having to say anything more as Friday took him back to Natasha's floor.

 

 

When the doors opened, Natasha was on the couch, looking wide awake but relaxed.

"Hey, kiddo."

"Why are you up this late? Don't you get up at, like, five am?"

"When I want to," she responds. "I heard about May's latest cooking adventure. How was that?"

"Her food more or less survived. She knows how to season, though."

"Nice. I was about to get some ice cream. Want some?"

"From where?"

"I raided the common freezer. Chocolate or coconut. Or both."

"Oh. Um, both?"

"Good choice. If you grab the spoons and bowls, I'll grab the ice cream."

He grabs the bowls he thinks she's talking about, but she sends him back for the bigger ones.

"We're going all out. I refuse to let you spend another night without having eaten ice cream here."

When he comes back, she smiles and thanks him, and immediately starts to scoop out the thick treat into the bowls.

Ben watches, eyes wide as she somehow does it without the ice cream being completely frozen, as if it had been thawing already, but he had watched her take them out of the freezer.

Not to mention how much there is.

When he's handed his bowl, he follows her cues and sits on the couch in front of the big TV.

"Want to watch something?"

Ben shrugs, too busy inspecting his ice cream.

It's not like he doesn't know what ice cream is or what it usually tastes like, it's just that he hasn't had it in so long and not since he forgot.

_Mmm, muy bien._

It's delicious. Creamy and chocolatey, and the bits of coconut mix well with the chocolate.

When he looks over at Natasha, she's smiling, happily digging into her own frozen treat.

Ben looks up at the TV, surprised to see something already beginning, but then settles into the couch, happy and content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a blessed day!


	17. The Water's Not Working

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait between chapters!  
> I have a plot, but it's not here yet.

Ben takes a look at the sheet over the mirror, not really wanting to see beyond it, but he's curious.

It's been a few weeks, and it's okay.

He only has to see May and Natasha, as long as he sticks to certain spaces.

Apparently, people want to see him, but he's just scared.

May and Natasha are safe.

Tony is supposed to be safe, but Ben can't bring himself to think about him for too long because then he's sent into a panic attack.

But overall, his days are good.

Sometimes he and Natasha go to the common kitchen, which Friday keeps off limits for the short periods of time they're there, and they pick out movies and food and go back to Natasha's floor.

They've even played an old game—Fast Fax—Natasha loves, and that Ben isn't too bad at.

Ben finds that he remembers some movies, but some parts are blocked, like where he watched them or who he was with.

He doesn't have any more revelations or memories that appear almost out of nowhere.

He just tries to enjoy the times when he's content.

 

 

Sometimes he isn't content.

He wants to be, but he's too scared.

It's the nights when he keeps the lights on in the bathroom and rations what food he has stored in there.

It's the days when leaving the room seems impossible, and leaving the tub nearly so.

It's the times when he stays up late, gathering every scrap of information on the Avengers because he's scared of it being a lie.

And it's the nights, like this one, when he wakes, panicked and screaming.

On nights like those—like these—he has developed a pattern of going to the kitchen, grabbing a drink of water, and then some ice cream or Nutella or something else sweet to remind him that he's no longer homeless.

But tonight, when he tries the tap, it only lets out a few splutters before it stops.

None of the other available taps on this floor work either.

"Friday?" He whispers, still shaking from his nightmare, and now, the impending doom he feels because of the situation.

"Yes, Ben?"

"The water's not working."

"I see that. Give me a minute."

Ben shuffles his feet, nervous.

"I have just sent for maintenance to fix the pipes on this floor. The main floor's water is working adequately, and no one is awake on that floor."

Ben, fidgeting with his webshooters, steps onto the elevator, his Spidey Sense blaring.

But he needs some water—Nat uses canteens to wash out and reuse, and he only has so much stored in his bathroom—but he's not going because he can't get juice or milk, but because of the pattern he keeps to keep himself sane.

It helps to calm his beating heart.

His warning sense still going off, he steps out, worringly messing with his webshooter on his left wrist as he walks into the kitchen.

Grabbing a cup quickly, wishing there were less breakable ones than the glass that is in his hand, he fills it at the sink, hands shaking.

A sharp pain in the back of his neck as his warning sense screeches, making him grunt.

When Ben turns around, the glass shatters in his hand.

Heart beat speeding up, he stares at the startled man in front of him, expecting pain to soon follow, but he's just standing there with a tablet and a shocked face.

It's _Stark_.

"Wh- Pete." He seems to snap out of his trance when he realizes that there's glass everywhere. "Oh, cr- Pete, don't-"

Ben's not wearing shoes or socks, and his hand is bleeding from the glass shards and slivers, and he's surrounded by glass, but that doesn't stop him from taking a step back on the glass to get away from the billionaire.

"Peter, don't move!"

Thankfully, Tony stops, hands up and out, as if he wants to touch him but isn't right now because of the glass.

But he's wearing shoes, so, he starts slowly, but Ben's backing up on the sharp glass makes him go faster.

"Pete, no!"

"Get away from me!" Ben yells, voice angry and strangled. "Get- Get away from me!

Tony's shocked and he's hurt, that much can be seen from his eyes.

"Pete-"

"Get _away_! I don't want anything to _do with you_!"

"Kid, I wouldn't-"

" _No_!"

Ben scrambles towards the counter and hops on it, leaving bloody streaks on its surface, and then he's running.

"Pete!"

"Leave me alone!"

"Peter, I just came down because Friday isn't worki-"

Ben's warning sense screams, and then the lights go out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Any ideas?  
> Have a blessed day!  
> Update! I am so sorry I missed a chapter! This is the updated one and I'll post the one I already posted to make up for this mistake.


	18. Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I missed a chapter! Here's a chapter to make up for it.

Collapsing on the floor, Ben is thrown back to a time when there was no one around to protect him.

He wants to run away from Tony, and he does, but then his warning sense screams at him to turn around, and he obeys it.

It hasn't betrayed him before.

He ends up tripping on someone, and the grunt that follows tells him that it's Stark, which sends him scrambling into another person, but this one sends his warning sense screaming and his leg right into the guy's crotch, resulting in a muffled grunt and a bunch of curses.

_Enemy_ , his sense screams with no real words. _Quickly_!

But before he can do anything, the man bursts into flames.

He hears curses—from Stark—and a frightened yelp from himself as he scrambles back.

The flaming person flickers as it reaches for him, but in a moment of clarity and feeling like an idiot, he realizes that he has webshooters.

Unfortunately, they do not stop flames.

The best it can do is yank him to safety, and, when he realizes that Stark is still there and about to get barbecued, pull him along as well.

Ben swears when he overshoots and ends up pulling Tony hard enough to crash into him, and then leaps away and towards the flaming villain, snagging a vase from a stand on the way.

"Heads up," he says, the words slipping from his lips before he can stop them, but it doesn't give the villain enough warning to stop the vase from crashing into his head, knocking him—and the flames—out.

_Huh_ , Ben thinks. _He's not made_ of _flames, he's covered_ in _flames_.

But when he turns around, there are two more.

"Kid!" Stark yells, but Ben shuts his voice out, shooting a web at the weapon in Tony's hands, yanking it towards him.

Catching it, he attacks the flaming man and woman.

 

 

Tony stares as Ben grabs his weapon and rips it from him, using it to fight the flaming foes with no hesitation.

He tries to get up, but he learns the hard way that his ankle is not just hurting, but probably broken.

With a shout at Peter-

_No, Ben_ , he corrects himself, but how can he call him Ben when it's Peter?

Tony crawls his way over, intent on beating the living snot out of the flaming idiots that would fight _his kid_.

But Ben's spinning and kicking and flipping faster than Tony can crawl, and too soon it's over.

Ben's hands, burned from when the fire touched him, shake, one of them gripping the handle of the metal bar that Tony had.

It looks like a shower curtain rod, but that is far from Ben's mind as he stares at the unconscious people at his feet.

They're fine, but the other person in the room is looking at him like he's...

Ben doesn't know.

"Pete," Tony says softly, voice almost breaking.

_It's Peter, but- What did they do to him? He's never fought like-_

_I have to talk to Romanoff._

"What?" The kid asks, swaying, eyes glazed over, trembling.

"Don't move, kid," Tony says, trying to get up no matter how his ankle feels, but the kid doesn't listen, trying to back away from the unconscious people on the floor.

"Kid," Tony starts to yell, but it's too late.

He collapses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry.  
> Any ideas besides checking before posting another chapter?  
> Thank you! Have a blessed day!


	19. What Happened?

When Ben wakes up, his eyelids are sticky and heavy, as if he's been asleep for months.

He jolts at the feeling of someone watching him, but he's doesn't get far before someone puts a hand on his.

"Shh, it's okay."

"Natasha?"

Man, his throat is dry.

"You're all right," she says, giving him a smile. "You've been out for a while."

"What happened?" Ben groans, head pounding as he lays it back down, hands shaking.

_Man_ , are they shaking.

They're covered in gauze and tape, so he can't even clasp them.

"The Tower was attacked. They took out the water so we wouldn't be able to fight back as well, except on the main floor because that's where most of the team usually sleeps, at least until you were brought here."

"Why not on separate floors?" He croaks out, and then is tossed into a coughing fit.

Natasha calmly holds out a cup with a straw.

Ben, still coughing, tries to reach for it, but his hands keep him from doing so.

"I got it. Just sip."

He reluctantly does so, draining it before he speaks.

"Why don't the Avengers sleep on different floors?"

"We have them, but we were being a team. Eat together, sleep on the same floor, have movie nights, train together, fight together. They didn't know you were here, so, when they took out Tony and you were there, and they didn't know who you were, you had the surprise needed."

"Why leave the one floor you're on with water?"

"They knew Tony would check the water, and then they'd strike and take him out first when Friday stopped working. After that, they'd shut off the water and then the power, and they'd kill us all. We wouldn't have water or fire exstinguishers, because they managed to take those out, and though Tony's suits have them, and Clint has hydro-arrows, Tony wouldn't have his suits, and they think Clint is just the 'arrow guy'."

"You guys can't beat three people?"

"We _can_. But you did it. Next time leave it to us, okay? At least when you're hurt."

She pauses, and then continues.

"Tony told me what happened," she says, glancing at his hands.

Ben shifts uncomfortably, looking down at them.

They're covered in gauze and they _itch_ , as do his feet, since they're bandaged, too.

"You got some pretty bad burns there. The glass doesn't help. You probably shouldn't walk around without shoes anymore."

"My- I was getting some water, and my warning sense went off, and when I turned around, _he_ was- He was _right there_. All I could see was him and what could happen, and what _did_ happen, and I just _couldn'_ _t_ \- I'm sorry!"

"Hey, I'm not mad at you, and neither is Tony. We were more worried about you."

"I'm sorry I broke your glass."

"You live here, too. It's not just mine."

"But I shouldn't have broken it."

"You dropped it. Tony drops stuff at least three times a week because he tries to mess with stuff on three hours of sleep."

"Is- Is Stark all right?"

"Nursing a concussion, and his ankle is broken, but fine. He wants to know how _you_ are."

"I'm good," Ben responds automatically.

"I know for a fact that you're not just _good_."

"I'm- I don't know."

The door opens before Natasha can respond, and May comes in, two cups of coffee in hand.

"Peter!" She exclaims, roughly setting the cups on a side table before she tackles him in a hug, but he—barely—manages not to react more than putting his hands up in defense.

She pulls back, regretting it.

"I'm sorry. Ben. Are you feeling okay? Do you need another pillow or-"

 

"I'm-" He glances at Natasha. "I'm okay."

 

Natasha nods back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this seems like it has a lot of information.  
> But maybe we'll get some progress later.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Have a blessed day!


	20. Spider-Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if there's a plot hole. I don't want to fox it right now.  
> Sorry, but I used Google Translate and the wording was tricky. I gave a translation for the Spanish parts.

Swinging through the city, laughs and whoops escaping him, but he doesn't even try to stop them.

He lands on a building, somehow landing on the glass without breaking it, fingers sticking.

He looks up and sees himself, but it doesn't look like himself because he is covered head to toe in spandex, his eyes covered with big lenses that stare at himself in the reflection in the glass.

"Spider-Man!" Someone screams, and his head whips to the right to search for the voice, his warning sense going off.

And then he finds himself leaning back, and he pushes off the building, only to catch himself with a web from his wrists.

 

With a jolt, he wakes, searching for his webshooters, finding them, but they aren't the ones he was wearing in his dream.

He searches his brain for any glimpse of them, only to find that they are the ones he found when he first woke up without any memory.

"How are you doing?" Natasha asks, coming into the room.

She knows something's wrong, that he can see.

It's been a few days, and he's doing better, but his sleep is full of confusing dreams and nightmares, and his days are spent refusing help from most people, especially medical personnel, so, his strength isn't as high as anyone would like.

He can still punch, that they know, but he mostly kicks.

They asked Stark and May if they could put him under for his own good, but they refused, and Natasha would've killed them anyway.

Ben could hear them ask May, and that ended about as well as you might expect.

Now there's only a few nurses and one doctor, and they aren't very hands-on, given Ben's refusal, which leaves him tired and ready to fight.

He trusts two people the most, and that's May and Natasha, but May's still not super close yet.

She's too close to Peter, and Ben doesn't feel like Peter.

He wants to fix it, but he doesn't want to be Peter.

He doesn't want to remember and be Peter because Peter went through that pain and bringing Peter back means-

He lets out a shaky breath.

"Weird dream," he answers after a moment, having had to remember what Natasha asked.

"Oh?" She says, waiting for him to talk.

"I was swinging around on webshooters, but they weren't _mine_. I saw my reflection, and I was wearing a red and blue suit—with a spider on the chest—and I had a mask. Someone called me Spider-Man."

She's silent for a moment.

"We've been trying to let you remember on your own. That's what Sam said to do, but- I was hoping it would be at a better time."

"At least I have _time_ now. Why was I wearing that suit? Where did I get it?"

"Have you thought about what you used to do? You know you had powers. What do you _think_ you did?"

"I was hoping that I did what I did in Mexico. Stopped thieves and stuff."

"That's what you did before."

"How'd I get the suit?"

"You started out in a homemade suit, but eventually, Stark recruited you, and he gave you a new one."

" _Stark_ gave me that suit?"

"He was trying to give you a better chance at staying alive."

"Makes sense, if the suit I made sucked."

"You wore sweats and a hoodie."

Ben groans.

"Please tell me I had a _mask_."

"You did have a mask," she reassures. "Friday, show him the suits, please."

A hologram appears, two pictures shown side by side, the one on the left being the homemade one.

"Ugh, why would he wear bright red and blue to fight crime?"

"I don't know why _you_ would," she gently corrects. "But it somehow worked."

_Oh,_ he thinks. _Me olvidé de nuevo. Soy peter._

_I forgot again. I'm Peter._

"Ugh."

"I know."

"Those colors," he says to get her attention off his mistake. "That's _asking_ for someone to see you."

"Most people didn't."

"That's weird."

He stares at the Stark suit, knowing that they probably couldn't fabricate it if it was fake, since he dreamed it, but he had seen it before he was found...

"Wait, so, Stark knows me because I fought crime in a onesie?"

"He does. He recruited you to fight Steve and the rest of his team, but he didn't think there'd be a fight. He was hoping that he'd come to his senses."

"I'm assuming he didn't."

"No, we didn't."

"We? I fought you?!?"

"Not really. I let Cap and Bucky go."

"When was this?"

"A couple years ago. But we've fixed it now."

"Oh. What happened after?"

"You and Stark went home, and he let you keep the suit, but he didn't want to mess up more and put you in more danger-"

"Then why let me keep the suit?"

"It was better protection than your sweats."

"Fair."

Ben listens to Natasha, but he promises himself that he'll fact check it.

"Eventually, you stopped someone from stealing from him, and you got hurt. He blamed himself, and promised to mentor you instead of putting you in more danger by letting you go off alone."

"Mentor," he says, sounding doubtful.

"You went every Friday and eventually started spending half the weekends, staying overnight."

" _Why?_ "

"Ben, it isn't just a mentor/mentee thing. He basically adopted you."

"¿Qué? ¡Pero él es- El es Stark!"

_What? But he's- He's Stark!_

She squints.

"Think about your room. Not just what's in it."

"It- It looked lived in."

"Exactly."

"But-" His voice cracks. "I can't- I can't spend a second around him! I can't do this, where he'll want me to be Peter when I- I'm not!"

Natasha gives him a kind, but sad look.

"Even if you're not the old Peter, you're a good kid."

_I don't wanna be the old Peter._

_I want to be_ me _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a blessed day!  
> Does anyone have any suggestions or requests? Sorry it's taken me so long to update!


	21. It's Okay To Be Afraid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!

The second time he wakes up, it's from a nightmare, and he's flying off the bed and punching anyone who tries to hold him down, and then he's off, racing down the halls until he finds the elevator.

When it stops suddenly, fear crawls up his throat, but he crawls up the wall and out the escape hatch, scuttling up the ropes until he reaches the top.

Once he's on the roof, he stops, breathing deep, smelling the air of the city that never sleeps.

His legs give out underneath him, the sounds washing over him as he closes his eyes.

His feet and hands burn, his hands shaking, but where he is...

This. This is familiar.

He doesn't remember it, but it's home.

 

 

When someone comes to get him, it's not Natasha like he wants.

It's not May.

It's Bucky.

He's visited him a few times, but Ben doesn't trust him.

"Hey, kid."

"What do you want?"

"Nat sent me up here."

"Why?"

"Because you're not the only one who can't remember."

"I read about you. I know what happened."

"You did your research. Smart."

Ben shrugs.

"Anything you still want to know?"

"Not really."

"I know more than most do about the team. Not just about me."

He could tell me about Stark.

"Stark. Is he really...?"

"Stark is a good guy. Better than his dad, that's for sure, but that's not exactly very hard."

"Why does he act like he knows me? He doesn't seem like the kind of person I'd like. The cockiness, the ego..."

"Because he does know you, kid."

"But I don't know him. Why would I? He's so arrogant! I've seen the videos and the interviews."

"It's fake. He has anxiety. He can't see his self worth. And he has PTSD, like more than half the team."

"Mood," Ben says, and then furrows his brow.

Where did he hear that?

"And you taught him memes, which he pretends he hates, but he likes to say 'same' every single time Clint trips. It was funny the first ten times, but now it's just annoying."

"I taught him memes?"

He knows what those are, somehow, now that he thinks about it.

"Kid, he's done more for you than you know."

"Like what?"

"He just has, Kid. Trust me, if I tell you, it could be too soon."

"Too soon?"

"If the memories are brought back wrong, they could give you an anxiety attack. I've been down that road, and you don't need that."

"I want to know."

"I know."

"Does it get better?"

"It does. Eventually."

"Eventually? I want it better now!"

Ben wants to punch something.

"I just want to remember so I can fix it!"

"Fix what?"

"My life. Whatever this is where I am acting for every second sucks. Apparently, Stark treated Peter like a son- Treated  _me_ like a son, and I have nightmares about him torturing me until all I can do is beg! I know it's fake but I also don't because I believed something for three months and then I'm thrown into this!"

"This is your life, sport. It's okay to be afraid. Don't force yourself."

_Ha,_ Ben thinks, staring down at his bandaged hands. _As if anyone would accept me if I don't._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions?  
> Have a blessed day! God loves you!


	22. I Have To Keep You Safe

Ben stands outside the doors and waits.

For what?

To open the door.

He's just scared.

He knows that Tony Stark can't walk without leaning on something like crutches right now, but he's so scared.

He tries to open the doors, but they don't budge.

"Would you like me to tell Boss you are here, Ben?" Friday asks.

"Uh, yeah."

The doors open almost immediately, and Ben stares at the full tables of what looks like junk but is amazing technology.

"Hi."

The voice is quiet, like it doesn't want to scare him.

Ben's eyes find Tony behind a table, a crutch propped up beside him, as he sits on a chair.

He looks like... Eugh.

The dark bruise-like smudges under his eyes are evidence of a severe lack of sleep, and he looks like he hasn't shaved in...

Ben doesn't know.

"Stark," he says, and then flinches.

"Did... Did you need anything?"

Tony's voice is cracked from disuse.

"I-"

He needed to come to get over his fear.

"I wanted to get to know you."

That sounds weird. That is it, but it isn't.

I want to see that you're not a cowardice, murdering mad scientist?

Yeah.

Tony stays silent.

"How's your ankle?"

"Broken. It'll heal up fine. How're your hands and feet?"

"Better," he says, but he doesn't show them.

_No need to show the enemy your scars,_ he tells himself, and then backtracks. _But he's not the enemy._ He's _not_.

"What are you building?"

"A new suit."

"New suit?"

"Yeah. For you."

Ben doesn't know what to say, too scared to say anything.

"Wanna see?" Tony asks awkwardly.

"S-sure."

Peter swallows down the bile that rises in his throat when he sees the suit.

It's red and blue, like the one he saw in his dream.

Honestly, it's beautiful, but he has to force himself to keep staring at it.

"It, uh- I've been working on it since... Since you got back."

"Oh."

"I added some features that weren't there before. Camouflage, um, I recalibrated the webshooters so the tazer webs had another lock on them to avoid accidents, and I set up some more safety protocols, and I added some padding so if you hit your head again..."

Ben changes the subject.

"Camouflage?"

"More like cloaking. I added the same tech my planes have, so no one can see you. I'm just working on fixing it so no one can see your heat signature either."

"Wow."

_I could've used that in Mexico._

"Does it have a heater?"

_That sounds dumb._

"Of course. There's also AC so you don't pass out when you forget to drink enough, and I added a pocket for your phone, since you always drop it and-"

Tony cuts himself off.

_Oh. Yeah._

"Thank you," Ben forces out.

It's not that he isn't grateful. It's just that he can't even look at the man without feeling like he's in danger.

But his stupid warning sense is silent, so, he forces down the urge to bolt.

Taking in a shaky breath, he tries to ask questions.

Not about his past, or Stark's, but about the suit.

"How many webshooter combinations does it have?"

"They used to have five hundred and seventy-six, but I added a couple more so it's..."

He makes a noise of disgust.

"I'm too tired for this. Friday, how many?"

Ben jumps when the AI answers, but he forces it down.

He's used to the AI. He's _not_ used to being in Tony Stark's lab.

"Really?" Tony asks, sounding confused. "Six hundred and twenty-?"

"Yes, Boss. You have been working very hard the past seventy-two hours."

Friday was hoping that Ben would react more, but he barely blinks.

He used to do that a lot when he was on the streets.

"I would suggest getting some sleep, Boss."

"Not now, Fri. Pete- Ben, do you want to try on the webshooters?"

He _so_ wants to say yes, and he does, albeit tentatively.

The seconds where he doesn't have any on while he switches to the new ones are terrifying, but when they're on, they feel like he's worn them for his entire life.

He breathes out a breath of relief, loving the feeling.

"Feels good?"

"Yeah," he whispers, as if talking louder would break the calm.

"Go ahead, shoot."

"At what?"

"That," he says, pointing at a picture of Captain America's shield.

"You hate Captain America?"

"No, but Barton thinks it's funny when I use that for target practice. I can't use his actual shield or Cap'll give me The Eyebrows of Disappointment."

Ben has seen those in videos when he looked him up.

Yikes.

"I wouldn't want that either."

"No one does. Go ahead, kid. Shoot."

Ben does, hands shaking, but he hits the very center.

A smile splits across his face, and he can't help it.

He lets out a breathy laugh.

"I assume you hit it."

"What do you mean assume?" He asks, his smile disappearing.

"Too tired to see clearly," Stark admits, and Ben frowns.

Wow, worse than he was.

"You should get to bed," he says.

"Can't when there's too much work to do."

"What needs to be done? M-Maybe I can help."

"I-I need- Um."

Stark drags a rough hand over his face that is tired and looks like it hasn't been shaved in days, at least.

"I don't know."

"What do you need to do?"

"Gotta keep the team safe, gotta- I have to keep everyone safe. I still haven't fixed where they got in, and I don't want to have the Avengers and security guarding the spot all day because I messed up, and I put everyone in danger _again_."

"They're safe."

"I have to keep _you_ safe. I can't just- I'm not done working on this. I still have a few web combinations I want to do, and-"

"Why don't you just take a nap?"

"I _can't_. No one would be working on the suit, and it's not finished!"

Ben, instead of backing down, finds himself confronting Stark's anger.

"Stark."

"What?"

"There's a couch over there. Sit down."

"I just gotta grab my tablet, and I'll-"

"I'll grab it."

Stark, grumbling but exhausted, relents, going to sit on the couch.

He collapses on it, not even moving his crutches because he figures he'll get up in a minute anyway.

"Where is it?"

"On the work bench," Stark yawns out, laying his head on the back of the couch, looking up.

"I don't see it. Is it under something, or did you leave it on another bench?"

"I dunno. Maybe... Ask Friday."

"Friday?" Peter asks her.

"Boss's tablet is on the couch beside him," she responds.

"So it is. Stark, you-"

Stark is already conked out.

_Ouch, that's gonna hurt his neck._

But he can't bring himself to fix it.

"F-Friday?"

"Yes, Ben?"

"Can you call somebody to get him somewhere... better?"

"Of course."

Ben sighs and takes off the webshooters, keeping an eye on Stark the whole time as he does so, only relaxing when he has his own on.

"Ben, Natasha is looking for you."

"Okay. Thanks, Friday."

"You're welcome. Would you like me to let her know where you are?"

"No, just tell her I'll be there soon."

He takes one last look at the man asleep on the couch and takes a breath of relief.

_Maybe I can act like Peter. If only to make them happy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Ben.  
> Have a blessed day!


	23. A Seed of Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-blame and self hate in this chapter.

Finding resolve, he heads over to Natasha, putting a smile on his face.

"Hey, Natasha. You wanted to see me?"

She gives him a suspicious look.

"You look cheery."

"Yeah, I, uh..." He has to force the smile to stay, but it's not as bright now. "I was in Stark's lab."

"Is he down there?"

"Yeah. Uh, now he's knocked out."

"What?"

"Asleep! He- He's asleep!"

"Was he asleep when you went down?"

"No. He fell asleep after he showed me a new suit. F-For Spider-Man."

"Oh. And?"

"It was... cool."

Maybe—just maybe—he believes them.

"Good."

She's smiling, happy that he's getting better.

"May wanted to know if you wanted to help her try to make a soufflé."

They've been cooking a lot and May's been wanting to try her hand at baking.

It's a lot of fun.

"You know we're gonna burn it."

"Is that a no?"

"I'll help," he says with a smile.

 

 

He believes them until something May says plants a seed of doubt in Ben's brain.

It starts out with her mentioning Peter's friends.

_No,_ your _friends,_ he tells himself.

She says it out of the blue, when he's staring at the TV numbly and she's been messaging on her phone.

"Ned misses you."

She looks like she regrets saying it, but it slipped out.

"Ned?"

"I'm sorry, I just- He just messaged me again, asking how you are. He knew you... before. He misses being your Guy In The Chair."

He somehow knows what that means.

"Oh."

He wracks his brain for the name.

"Leeds?"

"You remember?" She asks, brightening.

"No, I just saw it on Pete- _my_ Facebook page."

"Oh. You saw your Facebook?"

He shrugs.

"What did you tell him?" He asks, changing the subject.

"That you're doing well."

"And that I don't remember?"

She nods sadly.

"He wishes you did, but... He wants to talk even if you don't. He believes you can be friends again."

"It's hard to be friends with someone you don't remember and you're not the same," he grouches.

May frowns.

"I know, but... You're doing so well."

Ben frowns, turning back to the TV, brow furrowing.

She _thinks_ he's doing so well, but he's faking it.

He still has meltdowns and he stays in his room for days at a time, only coming out for food when he has to, and he's still so _thin_.

_That's your fault,_ his mind supplies.

Ben just wants to get over it.

But... Not right now.

"Maybe later," he says.

"It's just that he hasn't seen you in months, and even before, you hadn't seen him much."

"Why not?"

"Well, he had a lot going on. With you being Spider-Man, he didn't see you much, and he had his three week summer camp for robotics, and he was upset that you wouldn't go because you wanted to stay behind and be Spider-Man instead of doing what you used to do."

"He didn't see me much? I thought he was the Guy In The Chair. Doesn't that mean he walked me through it a lot?"

"Well, sometimes, but-"

She falters, and it feels like she's lying because why wouldn't a Guy In The Chair see his buddy a lot?

It sounds like Peter dressed up in spandex a lot, so, why wouldn't Leeds be a part of it?

"Ben..." May is saying. "You usually didn't need him to look up information or walk you through something. You wanted to keep hin safe, I guess, and that was the best way."

Ben acts like he understands, but he doesn't.

How would _he_ stay safe without help?

He would've given so _much_ to have that during those three months, and Peter took it for granted?

He begins to... hate?

No, resent.

He begins to resent Peter Parker.

But his mind supplies a thought.

_Eres_ tu _. Todo es culpa tuya porque eres Peter._

_It's_ you _. It's all your fault because you're Peter._

_No,_ he tells himself. _But I have to be to stay here._

_Do you want to stay here?_

He take a quivering breath as quietly as he can, trying to look normal so May won't see.

_Quieren a Peter Parker. Dáselo a ellos._

_They want Peter Parker. Give it to them._

_I will._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any ideas? Is it too slow? Thanks!  
> Glory to God for this and me being able to write!  
> Have a blessed day!


	24. Buzzing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is a short chapter!  
> Thanks for reading!

Looking into Ned Leeds takes days to do.

The kid is suspiciously clean.

He rarely gets in trouble at school, except the occasional lateness, disappearing off to the nurses office for him or for Peter, and that one time he was caught using a school computer to look at "adult content", apparently, instead of being at a dance, but after that, Ben was forced to stop.

Images of a car being wrecked and fire on a beach envaded Ben's eyes, sending him panting on the floor of the tub he was in.

He was only able to right himself in desperation when Natasha knocked on the door, asking him if he wants to come and eat dinner together.

He declined, too caught up in fear to really act normal in front of her.

He feels like his body is buzzing all the time, but due to not eating as much, he's sluggish.

Soon it's days between showers simply because he's too afraid that someone will charge in and he won't have his webshooters on or clothes that will be discreet enough to blend in a crowd, and the thought of changing into other clothes that are so well-worn by-

By _Peter_.

Everytime he thinks of him now he's afraid that he'll never get all right or that they're lying and that Peter is fake and Ben is Ben and Ben is a broken boy with no life behind or ahead of him.

He's afraid to go back.

_I hate this!_

He's afraid that this is fake, that _Peter_ is fake.

_I wish the buzzing would stop and I could just_ sleep _._

He's afraid of Peter being _real_.

_What if this is a lie? What if_ I'm _a lie?What if I'm not real?_

He's afraid of _being_ Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a blessed day!

**Author's Note:**

> Have a blessed day! Please, please, please let me know what you think!


End file.
